Niflheim
by Anyanka Jenkins
Summary: An assassin sent to the land of Dagez to investigate the death of a King – not just any assassin, but an immortal who has remained alone for thousands of years and dreams of painting the palace walls in blood. Unexpectedly, his mission becomes more difficult and complicated as he discovers the one he has been searching for his entire existence. Companion piece to Ginnungagap. Rec
1. Chapter 1: The Beginning

Updated/edited Ginnungagap and removed the JPOV chapter from the middle of the story. This chapter is set at the beginning of Ginnungagap, when Izabel first meets Jarpr.

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It was early morning when I departed from my family, six pairs of honey gold eyes looked on worriedly to me as I said my goodbyes. They knew I would not be far, not more than a half-day's run from our home, but it was goodbye nonetheless. The moon had already surrendered its hold on the night, but the sun had yet to rise. Cool air met my skin, although it failed to chill me. Although I could feel the various temperatures, heat would never again sear my flesh and the cold would never freeze my bones.

Immortality had its few benefits. Although a long life – if it could be described as such – did come with many disadvantages. While my family had their mates to share their many lifetimes with, I was alone. The odd man out who was forced to watch their loving interactions while my own still heart felt the pangs of loneliness that accompanied the fact that I was, in a way, alone.

The mere separation from one's mate – both through distance and time – was painful for my kind. Though the distance was not far, I knew that none of the others would be able to withstand the separation and successfully complete the mission at hand, nor did they possess the same advantage that I did. And so it was with these thoughts, and a guilty longing to separate myself from the reality before me of being without my own mate, that I had volunteered to go.

This journey would be a reprieve of sorts, freeing even, and would allow me the ability to focus only on the task at hand.

Clothed in the garb of a Tyr guard and servant, I ran to the land of Dagez. I would become a servant to the King, a position that would allow me the most access to the inner workings of the newly ascended leadership of the realm. Tucked securely in the side of my leather trousers was a letter from the King of Tyr. A letter that announced me as a gift to the King to celebrate his new marriage and would ensure the appointment I needed.

Trees blurred by as I ran through the forest, the stars retreating as the sun kissed the lines of the Iza Mountains behind me. As I ran, I could hear the stirrings of the human farmers and land workers who rose and prepared themselves for various tasks of the day. Though this new King had only taken power two months prior, his subjects already worried themselves with how they would meet the rising taxes, they worried for the crops that they desperately needed to meet the demands of their Jarls and their families. Worry seemed to slosh over in every thought that assaulted my mind as I ran.

It was these outer regions, these outer landowners, farmers, and even whole villages that in turn worried _us._ Immortals that had not been bothered by humanity in centuries now turned and looked upon these people with _concern_. Even now, as I ran and pushed my limbs faster so as to outrun the thoughts of those waking, the ugly vision remained in the forefront of my mind. The völur had seen visions of Yggdrasil, the Great Ash tree, shaking as if in the midst of a great storm; leaves fell from the far-reaching branches in great piles to the land of Midgard. The leaves were without number and as they touched the realm of man, then slowly became saturated and drowned in steaming baths of blood. The determination, the certainty of the vision drove my compassionate maker to prevent such horrors from befalling the land.

However, we did not know – only suspected – what would set in motion these tides of events that wash the land in blood. The völur sought the decision, the one action or human, that would begin the tumbling of events, but every vision seemed to hinge on the death of one human. The death – possibly murder, of one man would send his kingdom into utter darkness. Immediately, we had visited Dagez in search of the King, to seek him out and ascertain his health, and the intentions of those around him. There were of course those who sought to ascend to a position of power, those who wanted to better their standings and holdings – but none stood out as murderous. And so, after several days in the forest, we left empty handed, without any more information than before. The woods flickered across my memory and a familiar tug ached inside me, but I quickly pushed it aside.

Assumptions were not something we were familiar with, had never been faced with – the clarity of visions had always before been able to find the one action that altered a future. Yet, doubt – murky and thick, pooled around us. We had to assume that someone murdered the king, that someone who would ascend to the throne in his steed – his daughter or perhaps her intended husband would be the catalyst to bring about such destruction. But to murder these rulers outright seemed to bring forth even worse disasters. Despite the impression that immortals were blood thirsty, satisfied only by the mortals in their charge, murder was not something we considered without much debate – to slay the rulers of a land came with steep consequence – both to the many humans that would be impacted, and ourselves - the secrets we kept. A land without a ruler was a land in darkness, in turmoil, and it was something to be avoided at all costs. The humans of this realm would limp on before like a dying fire, would flicker and fade into ash, but it was our family that would fall into utter ruin. And so, instead of immediate permanent action, we chose to spy.

Never before had we sunk to playing human in such a manner, to not only walk among them, but to resort to their own mortal methods of information gathering. And while my family – and myself, previously – were not bloodthirsty animals sated only by the violence that accompanied a slaughter, I found myself wanting to stain the walls of the Dagez palace in deep, crimson blood. I imagined it – thick, warm beads that rolled down the stoned walls, stained the floors, and gathered in sticky puddles. The night would blanket the palace as I walked from room to room, killing those in my path, leaving only the truly innocent alive to face the horror that would come with the rising sun. Like the avenging, angry, murderous god that so many mistook us for, I would kill in the night and vanish without any knowledge of my coming or going, and the stories would circulate for generations of the sudden, violent end of their rulers.

No, though these fantasies seemed to run rampant, paced only by my anger at the death of the king – the very man who seemed to embody goodness itself, I would remain true to the path and plan set before me. I would remain focused on the mission at hand, and only satisfy my deep, coursing anger with the blood of the guilty. I imagined it would not take long to find the source of this upheaval, to find the proof of their guilt, and then with great satisfaction, slowly end their life and with it, the vision of horrors that had awaited the realm.

It was midday, cloudless when I arrived on the village edge. As I neared the bustle of people, I slowed to a human pace and secured my cloak and hood in place. On the outlying edge of the village were several homes, scattered about with their sod roofs and small backyards with tiny gardens. From the windows of the homes, smells of the midday meal wafted in the air, the sound of children setting tables and protesting washing prior to the meal seemed to ring through the air, and the steady sound of boots hitting the dirt and grass as they walked eagerly home to their families created a beautiful music. People living their normal, mortal lives was something our family of immortals envied; to love, to sleep, to have children – all were treasures we would never be able to have, to create. And so, we listened and we coveted the simple pleasures that most humans took for granted.

My steps slowed as I allowed the normalcy of the day to sink into me, to take in the smells – albeit nauseating – of the prepared meals and the comforting thoughts of the wives busying themselves with preparations for their husbands returns.

 _I do hope he enjoys the cheese today; it is his favorite after all._

 _Must complete the mending after lunch._

 _Tonight I will best him at the game._

 _Please have earned enough money at the market._

When the thoughts turned sad, I attempted to tune them out and continued walking through the dirt path littered with pebbles and stones along the edges. Town came into view fairly quickly, also spackled with small homes but these homes were settled above merchant stores, and the roads here were far more crowded as people milled about between the taverns and merchants selling fresh game, produce from gardens, and the blacksmith who sold shields, swords, bows, and arrows.

Separated by a tall wall, was the palace with looming gates that allowed entry. I had visited this land before - decades before. I remembered the kings that came before this one. Kings who were noble and worked alongside their people to instill honor and loyalty; Kings who hosted The Thing twice a year and worked hard to ensure their people's successes; Kings who could be trusted. I scowled and pulled the hood tighter to my head and began to walk towards the palace. Along the far side of the wall, nearest the village, a small group was gathered. My ears made out many murmurs of, "thank you". Curious, I walked towards the group to see what act had pleased the crowd so.

A peasant woman, clothed in a shapeless pale blue tunic and an olive green head covering, had several baskets at her feet. Inside the baskets appeared various produce, grain, and even fresh game. People approached her in a surprisingly orderly fashion, hands out and palms up as they neared her. Although he face was bathed in the shadow of her covering and the sun, I could make out her beautiful, delicate features and the strange tug pulled at me again.

Kindness shined through her large brown eyes as they met the gaze of every person who approached her, her pale skin contrasted the covering of her head and the dark brown color of her braided hair. She smiled at each person, a seemingly genuine smile as she whispered, "You're welcome," and "How is your family?" to each person she gifted with food.

Curiosity seemed to overwhelm me as I felt a sudden need to know if she were as genuine as she seemed. Reaching out, I focused my mind on her, sifted through the voices surrounding her, and attempted to read her thoughts.

Nothing.

Silent.

With a shock, I realized that her mind was closed to me, it was something I was unable to access. Was she a human? Or was she like me, in disguise, pretending to be a mortal? This would explain her ability to so completely block me from the privacy of her thoughts. Again, I turned my focus to her and listened; there was a heartbeat, blood flowed through her veins – she was, in fact, a mortal. How could this happen? Never before had a mortal, a _human_ , ever prevented me from accessing their thoughts.

The need to know more surged once again and I searched the thoughts of those gathered around the woman.

 _A gift from the gods._

 _Everyday she is here._

 _If it were not for her our family would not have enough food._

 _Always so kind._

 _A shame really._

The last thought captured my attention and I returned to that mind. It was an old woman, who stood at the edge of the group, gazing at the young peasant woman. The older lady's face seemed compassionate, but sad. Probing again, I immersed myself in her thoughts.

 _The match is unsettling. Everyday she comes to the wall and feeds us, and yet her husband remains essentially unseen. What did her father envision when he agreed to this arrangement? I wish she were happy._

The tenor of these thoughts seemed to imply an unhappy union between this young woman and her new husband. Quietly, I walked towards the back of the group and lingered on the edge. Although I did not need to be so close in order to hear the people and the young woman converse, I wanted to be closer and perhaps inhale what I imagined to be her sweet scent.

"Thank you," a young man stated, and bowed his head quickly.

"You are very welcome. Come back again tomorrow." Her voice was musical, with several beautiful notes that seemed to resonate with the very core of me. The tug pulled harshly at me, urged me forward. The need to protect her throbbed through me, I wanted – no _needed_ to touch her, inhale her scent. All else seemed to fade away as I observed her; nothing else existed except the woman mere feet from me.

 _My mate._

The realization was quick and almost instant. I had found my mate on this journey. Equal elation and anger coursed through me; happiness to finally discover the one I was made to share eternity, for the completion that would come, and anger at the mission before me, the mission that would keep us apart for a bit longer.

And anger at her husband, whoever the poor bastard may be. When the mission was complete, when the guilty had been discovered, I would take my mate and leave this land, return home, and would leave one additional body in my wake. That of the unfortunate bastard who had not only been matched with my mate, but who also made her unhappy.

Unhappiness seemed glaringly obvious as I drank her in, although beautiful, her entire being seemed to radiate a sadness. Hands twitched at my sides, hands that wanted to touch her, feel the heat of her skin against the coolness of my own. While human, her touch would burn against my body; her scent would create a hunger, a burn in my throat. I would have to be very careful and seek her out in the village when I could. When we left – together – I would change her, make her like me, and share eternity together. No longer would I walk alone or ache at the emptiness inside me, ache from being incomplete.

"Thank you," another voice murmured, a young mother perhaps, as she took food from my mate.

The old woman, whose thoughts I had indulged in earlier, had moved from the edge of the group and now stood in front of the beautiful, unknown peasant. She bowed her head slightly in gratitude, took the offered food, and whispered so low I almost missed her words, "Thank you, Your Highness."

The shock that seemed to engulf my mate's face most likely equaled my own. _The Queen?_ Surely not. As good as the previous King had been, whispers and rumors of how terrible his daughter was had reached even our ears. The young woman bearing food for the people was not the Queen, _could not be_ the Queen; the rumored young woman who hide herself in the palace; the woman who after her father's death had immediately married and ascended the throne; the woman who ignored her people as steadily as her own father had participated and lived amongst the people, the very Queen who was suspected of murdering her own father.

Eventually, the woman's baskets were empty and she stacked them into one another into a nice pile and began carrying them away. The group dispersed and I hid myself in the shadows of the homes and stores while I watched her. Her hips swayed gently as she carried the stack of baskets, and she hummed quietly to herself an unknown song – probably a local bard creation.

 _Do not go into the palace. Do not be the young Queen._ My mind begged the unsuspecting woman to turn away from the gates of the palace, to walk to a small home with a sod roof and a hard working village husband. And so, when she turned towards the gates and entered, my heart seemed to sink into the marrow of my bones. Once inside the gates, her eyes seemed to watch the area around her, and satisfied she removed the hood from her head. Clearly, I could make out every detail about her. If she were the Queen, I would see her again – probably in the space of a few hours. I would use my perfect recall to match the face of the Queen to the face of this, my mate. No decision would be made until I knew who she was.

My mission suddenly became infinitely more challenging.


	2. Chapter 2: The Meeting

**See end for author's notes.**

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Stubbornly, I remained hidden near the gate waiting for the young woman to depart the castle. Minutes became hours and soon the day had wasted away and the sun sat low in the sky. Yet still, she had not exited the palace. Resigned, I sighed and began my trek to guard station just inside the gates. Whether it was anxiety or nervousness - both foreign emotions for me - that caused me to delay in entering the palace, I did not know. All I knew was that I both dreaded and looked forward to officially meeting the King and Queen of Dagez.

Two guards were positioned directly to my left inside the gates, and noting the unusual uniform I wore - certainly not that of Dagez, halted my progression. This had been expected and deftly I withdrew the letter from the King of Tyr, with the royal emblem pressed into the wax, and extended it in my hand for them to view. "Good eve. I bring a message for the King and Queen of Dagez from His Highness King Vanir of the lands of Tyr."

Having noted the royal emblem, they nodded towards one another and beckoned that I follow them with a wave of the taller guard's hand. "Follow me," he stated simply.

Nodding, I fell in line behind the taller guard, while the older but shorter man remained behind. Together we walked through the greenery of the courtyard, under the stone arch of the entrance, and turned towards what I could only assume to be the throne room. The younger man turned towards me again, "Please wait here as I announce you to His Majesty."

Without waiting a reply, the man pulled open the heavy door and slipped inside. As I waited, my mind began considering what lay beyond the doors. Was the Queen on the other side? Would she be the same woman I saw outside the walls feeding the less fortunate? Could the woman possibly be a servant - maybe within the Queen's service, and perhaps this was why she had been mistaken as the woman who had so recently moved from Princess to Queen?

I had not heard of anyone in my world that had mated with a human - would she – whoever _she_ turned out to be - have a similar reaction? Would she even acknowledge me? Worry began to seep into my normally calm mind - that my mate might not feel the same as I did, that perhaps she would want nothing to do with me.

Although, if the woman and the Queen were one in the same, the feeling might even be mutual.

I heard Yakov - his voice permanently etched in my memory from my previous visit - summon his wife and I could feel my dead heart almost begin to beat with anticipation. The shuffle of boots as someone - an attendant or perhaps a guard, left the room from another exit to communicate the summons. Silently, I waited as the moments ticked by, waited for the sound of her entering the room, waited for her voice to acknowledge her husband. Nothing happened. Some time had passed before the servant returned with reply from the Queen that she was not coming.

Shock passed through me at the idea of the Queen not coming when summoned. Who was this woman? Was it ego that allowed her to not only deny her husband, but also risk both their reputations with the disobedience? Was it laziness that prevented her from attending? Why would she not come? Yakov seemed unaffected by the response - perhaps she had denied him previously? Before I could ponder that information further, I heard boots draw closer to the door, signaling someone's approach.

The guard returned and opened the door wide for me to enter through. "His Majesty will see you," he stated and again waved me through the entrance with his hand. _What of the Queen?_ Breathing deeply, I inclined my head and walked through the doors. My boots echoed loudly in the room as my long legs carried me - painfully slow - to the platform that held two thrones. One throne, the smaller of the two, sat empty and with the motes of dust that had gathered - I assumed it had not been used in some time. _Does she deny him often?_ On the second throne, Yakov sat looking bored and disinterested with his surroundings.

Upon reaching his throne, I bowed with my eyes lowered, and introduced myself. "Good eve Your Majesty. I carry with me a message from His Majesty, King Vanir of Tyr." Again I extended my arm with the sealed message that I knew offered me as a wedding present to the new King and Queen of Dagez. Gesturing to one of the guards within the throne room, Yakov nodded his head as the guard retrieved the message and placed it in his hand. Long fingers ripped the scroll where the wax had melded the message together and after slowly unrolling the paper, began to read the message.

 _A present? Why? Father and I had not discussed the Kingdom of Tyr. Why would they get involved when they have remained silent for so long?_ Yakov's brow creased, his eyebrows drew downwards as he read and re-read the missive, as if his scrutiny could change the words that were penned before him. He forced himself to breathe in and out slowly as he contemplated his options. _If I killed this servant outright, would the King of Tyr know?_ Stealing a glance over the top of the paper, his eyes darted to where I stood - still bowed at the waist and considered the potential ramifications should he eliminate me and whether my King would be insulted.

The man was clearly distrustful, as he should be with such suspect circumstances moving him from betrothed - albeit arranged - to the princess to now her husband and the King. As he considered his own options, I also flitted through my own - should the coward before me decide to attempt to eliminate me, my own hand would be forced and I cursed the fact that I could not reach Alice, our vølur, to see the consequences of that decision.

Abruptly, Yakov's mind went in another direction. _I can place him with Izabel. Should word travel back to King Vanir, it should appease him that I have accepted his gift and he will not be a threat in a woman's service._ The corners of Yakov's mouth turned upwards as he considered this path - my usefulness should he acquire loyalty from me and my inability to harm him while in his wife's service.

Keeping my own composure while I listened in on his thoughts, I was secretly pleased with the change of events. It would give me the opportunity to meet the Queen - hopefully in a more private setting, and once (hopefully) eliminated as my mate, would allow me more freedom to search for the identity of the mystery woman from the gates.

"Rise," Yakov stated. "Welcome to Dagez," he paused and looked back down at the message, presumably for my name, "Jarpr. You will be assigned as the House Karl for my wife, Her Majesty and will work with her maidens to ensure the smooth operations of her quarters. Do you have any combat training?"

I considered how best to answer his question. Due to his weariness and mistrust, I felt that it would be better to admit to some combat training, but certainly not anywhere near the real extent of my abilities or knowledge - definitely not a good idea to admit to how very lethal I could be. "Some, Your Majesty," I answered.

"Good," he replied, "part of your duties will include the protection of Her Majesty as well." Nodding towards one of the attendants seated to the side of the throne room he continued, "Aaron will escort you to the Queen's chambers. Find him afterwards for assignment to your own quarters."

Understanding that I had been dismissed, I turned and allowed the older attendant - Aaron, to lead me out of the throne room. Silently, I followed behind him as I reached into his thoughts. Surprisingly, his mind was as blank as any human could have, with only surface thoughts of menial tasks he needed to complete prior to the King's evening meal. The only thought that stood out for me was that the King and Queen did not dine together, as Aaron did not oversee any preparations for a meal together but rather the meal Yakov took in his own chambers with a select concubine.

Winding through the halls I allowed my own thoughts to drift as I walked achingly slow behind the older man. Over and over I asked myself what I would do if the Queen and the young woman outside the walls were one in the same. The stories that had reached Tyr regarding the young Queen painted the image of a woman I would loathe to associate with, let alone with which to share eternity. In my limited interactions with mated couples, I had yet to see the matches not be compatible. Would it be my luck, my fate, that I would be the first to experience an unwanted matching? My skin crawled as I considered an eternity of loneliness, to know my own mate was out there - that I knew she lived and where, and yet despised her and everything she embodied.

Laziness.

Apathy.

Selfishness.

Had I truly been mated to such a creature?

Over time, my family had monitored Dagez, had listened to the news that reached Tyr – whether through conventional or unconventional means, and while the men who sat on the throne and led their people changed – one thing had not: Kiev's sincerity, innate goodness, and his dedication to the Norse code, it seemed had been passed down to each new generation of rulers. Dagez was a steady kingdom, one in which the King lived amongst his people, protected them, and the Queen was the heart, someone who nurtured both the lands and the families during both the summer and the winter of time. Yet, sometime after the death of Queen Renata, the young princess had withdrawn from the people. Initially, when whispers reached our ears of the princess who shut herself away, we had understood. The girl had just lost her mother, and at such an important age, it was normal for a girl to want privacy for her time of mourning. Her father, Karl, had remained strong – though the news included glimpses of his grief, he had remained with the people. He had grieved _with_ them for his lost wife; he had doubled his efforts it seemed to not only be their protector, but their heart as well.

The girl, Izabel, had made no such efforts. Days and weeks bled into months and then years, and all that we had heard of her was the gossip from parties and events.

 _Shallow._

That was how we thought of the young princess. A young woman who had selfishly abandoned her father to his grief, who had abandoned her mother's work, who spent her time at parties and gatherings – not the strong women we had become accustomed to from Kiev's lineage.

When the announcements had come within a day of each other – that Karl had died and that Izabel was to wed and ascend the throne, the anger had been white hot for the family. Their thoughts had peaked into a roar pressed against me, their emotions crashed upon my brother as he tried to sooth the raw nerves. The time had arrived, whatever would bring ruin and death to both our lands, had surely arrived and it all seemed to center on one selfish, spoiled, _shallow_ girl.

That girl would not be my center, I refused to allow her an inch in my existence – mating bond be damned. The very thought of her disgusted me and yet, the loneliness I had lived with for so very long ached within me. _My mate_ – a spoiled child I wanted nothing to do with.

The best I could hope for was that her identity had been mistaken. Although that would not explain the shock that had colored her face when the old woman had formerly addressed her by title. Yet, I hoped that it was not _that girl_ and instead someone, anyone else.

It seemed too soon that we had paused outside the Queen's chambers. No guard stood post at her doorway and I found that annoyed me. Internally I scoffed at myself – not willing to give an inch of concern for her. Aaron cleared his throat and began explaining the Queen's routine to me: her early morning routines and retirements, large amounts of time spent walking in her family's garden maze, and evening massages. "This has been a fairly recent development, mostly since her wedding to His Majesty," Aaron explained, "However, as her House Karl, you will need to ensure that either someone arrives each evening to heat the oils and massage her or will need to perform this yourself." Though he paused externally, his thoughts practically shouted at me regarding his thoughts about me administering the Queen's nightly massage. _Inappropriate_ was the word he thought over and over.

My face remained impassive as I inquired, "Has someone already performed her massage this evening? Or is there someone I need to see to ensure it is taken she is attended?"

Aaron frowned, "No one has taken care of her massage this evening. The oils are located within her bedchamber and she is probably waiting for someone to come this eve. Are you able to take care of this?"

"Yes."

Briskly he replied, "Then see to it. I will take my leave for now. Come find me later in the throne room for assignment for your quarters." Then he turned on his heel and departed. Inhaling deeply, I mentally prepared myself for the meeting with the Queen, all the while reminding myself she may not be the same woman I had observed earlier that afternoon.

I pushed against the door and crossed the threshold into the main room. To the left - I assumed - her maidens' chambers, to the right two heavy doors that presumably led to her bedchambers, and in the center was a sitting room with a hearth. I closed the door behind me and walked to the right. On the other side of the doors I heard the distinct sound of someone breathing, and pushed open the doors to enter the Queen's bedchamber.

Placed in the middle of the room was a large bed littered with linens and pillows, and upon the bed a sheet covered a distinctly feminine outline. With my entrance, a draft passed through the doorway and I could see the woman shiver. The light from the hearth nestled in the wall outlined her shape and I felt my body's reaction. Every sense burned brightly, totally engulfed by her. Muscles bunched and tensed in anticipation, venom flooded my mouth as her blood sang sweetly from across the room, and I felt myself harden as her smell wafted over me.

Yet, I fought myself. Justified my reactions - she had sweet smelling blood and the demon's primal instincts had reacted. Blood lust and lust were commonly associated together during a kill, and with tempting blood that sang so sweetly to me with only a sheet covering I assumed her naked or near naked form, I could understand why my body had reacted. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Long legs carried me closer to the edge of her bed, my steps seeming loud to my sensitive ears. Despite my earlier negative feelings towards the young Queen, I found myself not wanting to startle the woman and announced myself to her, "Ahem, Your Highness."

Slowly, she turned her head towards me, a curtain of dark tresses and familiar features. The woman from the wall and the woman in the bed were one in the same. _My mate._ With my nearness to her, I could feel the tug intensify and had I any previous doubts as to who she was to me, they were gone – dashed and crushed - in that moment.

Equal parts elation and rage built in me. I had found her. I did not have to be alone anymore. She could be _mine_. Her beauty was staggering – dark waves that fell past her shoulders that framed a heart shaped face with a plump bottom lip. The sheets outlined her frame in intimate detail, the graceful lines of her shoulders and the warm flesh that peeked from the tops of the sheets, then the sloping line down from her shoulders to the base of her spin, and then a swell covered by more linens and blankets. Soulful eyes focused on me, beautiful in their dark depths that seemed to stretch on like a night sky.

Her eyes traveled the length of my frame; I could sense the slight change in her as she drank me in. Fear - not the tangy fear that humans often had when in such close proximity with my kind, but rather something slightly different. Perhaps better described as worry or anxiety, but of what I was unsure. "Sir, these are my private rooms, may I inquire why you are here?" She did a fine job keeping her voice steady, but I could hear the slight tremor in her voice, instantly awakening my sense of protection and anger at whatever was the cause of her fear - even if I was the source. Forcefully, I pushed the feelings down - the demon demanding I allow my instincts to rule me. My instincts to both protect and take the woman before me that with every fiber of my being recognized as _mine_. Swallowing thickly, I fought my body for control, to use my advantages to put her at ease.

"I do apologize Your Highness," and I bowed again at the waist as I had with her husband, hoping the familiar action would begin to calm her. "My name is Jarpr, and I am a servant from the realm of Tyr. I have been sent here as a wedding present from King Vanir. The throne has sent me here to assist you. I will be your servant."

She clutched at the thin sheet and pulled it impossibly closer to her body. Her brow drew down as her teeth worried her bottom lip. _Worry._ Definitely worried about something.

"Errr, thank you, however all of my servants are women, outside of personal guards, I really do not have any male servants nor would it be appropriate for me to take any." She attempted an apologetic smile – her attempt to effectively dismiss me.

 _That will not do_. The demon inside me had already acknowledged the woman before me – even if I still warred with myself to reconcile who she was and who she was _to me._ The demon however, was beyond caring. Thousands of years he had waited for the moment when our mate joined us, then to have her within arms reach, her body warm and inviting, her blood a sweet tune that drifted in the air and drenched every sense in its seduction. The need to touch her, kiss her, worship every inch of her body overwhelming and it demanded to be slaked, to be satisfied - but I was still me and pushed back the urges that threatened to overtake my sanity. The other part of myself that I had maintained an iron grip of control over screamed inside of me that embodied deep down, _what_ I really was, but never _who_ I was. Earlier concerns about who the woman before me really was - compassionate or cruel, caring or apathetic, shallow or selfless still resounded in my mind and I knew I needed to know her. Beyond her beauty, her alluring smell, and the relentless tug that pulled us together.

Refusing to be dismissed by her, to loose any opportunity to discover the answers to my silent questions, I spoke again - lied easily and without thought to her, "Ah, my lady, but I am a eunuch, you need not have concerns about me. Surely you have been served by eunuchs before?" I bowed again at the waist, but could not resist the opportunity to maintain the eye contact I had established with her while smirking at her attempt to dismiss me. _You will not get rid of me that easily, young Queen._

"Oh, of course," she murmured, her previous objections forgotten if the dazed look on her face was any indication. Once more I reached out to touch her mind, and again was met with utter silence. Hoping that perhaps contact with her would allow me to break through her defenses, I stood and moved closer to her, my hands stretched out, itching to touch her. "Milady, are you ready for your massage?" I asked as I reached for the heated massage oils located on the table near her bed.

"Yes, thank you," she replied and then turned her head away from me, momentarily breaking the spell between us.

Quickly I moved the oils to her bedside and then slowly sat on the bed near her. I could smell the scent of her skin and hear the thrum of a wet heartbeat as it pumped her lovely blood through her body. All that separated my skin from hers was the thin sheet settled along her form. Careful not to touch her skin to mine yet I peeled the sheet down and tucked it securely along her hips. I wanted to be able to relish the first time our skin touched and the sensation that I knew would follow.

I poured the heated oils onto her back; rubbed my hands together to create some warmth and then touched the palms of my hands, the tips of my fingers, to the soft flesh of her back.

The reaction was instant for me. The hum at that first contact was deafening in my ears, the sensation of being home, and the overpowering want that surged through my body practically crippling. Why had I lied to her about being a eunuch? Impossibly, I felt myself harden even more as my body relished the feeling of skin-to-skin contact. Images bombarded my mind of flipping her over to her back and ravishing her mouth while my hands roamed freely about her body, tearing the sheet away to discover the pleasures beneath, discovering every inch of heated skin and secret spot to make her cry out from pleasure. Fuck the consequences. I wanted her - very badly, and my body warred with my mind. Matters were not helped when my senses drank in her body's instant reaction to my touch. Her breathing quickened and the faint smell of arousal wafted in the air. To what extent she had felt the connection was unsure, but was sure she had felt it on some level.

My fingers gently pulled the muscles along her spine, applied the lightest of pressures so as not to injure her in any way. Was she aware of the sounds she made? Her sighs and almost silent moans had my body almost raw from want. I could feel the tension begin to melt away from her limbs as I continued, almost moaning myself at the rightness of the feel of my flesh against hers.

"How did you learn to do this?" she asked, her voice husky.

The image of my maker appeared in my mind. I had been his first companion and he had sought to teach me all that he knew, every piece of information he had collected. While some information he had taught me verbally, or through texts he had collected – other information had been conveyed silently. That knowledge was passed from his mind to my own, he would free his thoughts, focus on what it was that he had wanted to teach me, and I would learn through his perfect recall. The knowledge of how to perform the massage for the young Queen had been learned just that way. Before he had opened his mind to me, he had explained how he had obtained the information nearly half a world away.

Once my maker had accepted his fate, he had traveled the world in search of knowledge, in search of an answer to the one resounding question that had plagued him. _Why?_ Why had he been made a demon? Why had he been cursed for with immortality? Without the need to breathe, to rest, to even eat as humans ate – he had restlessly traveled from one land to another, in search for the ends of the earth beneath his feet, in search of answers he prayed he would find.

Instead, he had traveled to a small village, one he had shown me in his mind once. Surrounded by beautiful yet lethal mountains, capped in ice that kissed the sky, a small village of the Sherpa sat nestled next to a lake made of glass. He had been shocked that any mortal could live in such conditions, so far above the land, where the air had been so thin that surly it was nearly impossible to breathe. Yet, the Sherpa had lived in near isolation, their temple and village, hidden from the rest of the world. As my maker had immersed himself in their culture, relatively difficult for any outsider, yet with the charms of our kind an easier accomplished feat, he had learnt of the _Verdas._

I explained a more acceptable version of the story, "Generations ago, while upon a journey of self-exploration, King Vanir discovered puruşātha, which teaches us the four pursuits of life, one of which is sensual pleasure. In this teaching, we learn about sensual touch – or massages." _Kama_ , the pursuit I shared, was without sexual connotations, I found that the passion and pleasure of the senses, easily crossed over to more intimate gratification.

"That is amazing, as a serf that you received such an education. Have you always been a servant or did that come later?"

I chuckled low in my throat. _Always a servant?_ I thought back to my mortal life, a slave whipped and chained by the invaders, the cruel men who would later fall after my change. A servant? A slave? I had been both, and as our world evolved, as we had moved from the shadows in the night, to something _else_ , those terms had come to mean something new to me. "I have always been a servant," I shook my head and returned attention to her back, all lines and sinew beneath my probing fingers. My fingers reached and pulled at the muscles lower on the sides of her back, dangerously close to the sides of her chest. A low moan escaped her lips; her skin was painted crimson along her cheeks, her throat, and the soft swell of her breasts. Mercifully, I could not actually _see_ the color racing along her flesh – but I could smell the blood and feel the heat of it rushing to the surface.

The monster raged within me, viciously screamed and clawed from the inside as the sweet aroma filled our senses. _Feed. Drink. Take!_ It demanded action, it demanded to be satisfied and I knew my control was rapidly slipping through my fingers. The air was thick with the tension and silence between us – I did not want to leave, but knew that I had to escape, had to clear my head, hunt, and regain control of myself. "How does your back feel, Highness?" I whispered, my voice was guttural and hoarse.

"Fine. Better. It feels better now, thank you Jarpr."

I forced myself to rise, to put some distance between us. Almost too late, I remembered that I had a part to play, that my mission and the role demanded specific actions – such as requesting leave from the Queen, not simply leaving because I was about to loose all control. Focused on getting out, away from the temptation, I turned back towards her and asked, "Is there anything else you require my Queen?"

Her reaction to my question, the hot surge of her blood, the quick intake of her breath, the way she looked at me with her wide eyes, confirmed for me that she _had_ felt something between us. Something very tangible, something real enough that her earlier fear had been pushed aside and the thought of separating caused her anxiety. At least, I _hoped_ that it was the connection she felt, hoped that it was the reason behind her reaction to a mundane question. Again, she quickly reigned in her reactions, and had I been mortal may have even questioned I had actually seen the whirlwind of emotion unfold before me. Evenly she answered me, "No, you may leave."

Before the beast could break free, before I could give into the urges clawing inside my head, I turned and retreated as quickly as possible. Yet, when I reached the door, I was unable to resist one final glance back to her. She had shifted in the bed, turned to her side, long arms stretched upwards to cradle her head, her dark locks fanned out on the linens.

Beautiful.

Tempting.

 _Mine_.

Hoarsely, I whispered the first thought that came to my mind, "I will you in the morrow." Then with a quick turn of my heel, I raced from chambers.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Hi everyone! **waives** As I worked and re-worked _Ginnungagap_ these past two years, I've gone through and written chapters from JPOV to help me fill in gaps (otherwise I had this huge file marked "Historical Notes / Story Notes" where I tried to keep all the backstory items in line with the story as it unfolded). After moving them to their own files "GIN CH1 Meeting JPOV" was how this was originally titled), I've started to clean them up and polish them off for their own story.

With that said, the chapters I have written for this one - it's not just a retelling of _Ginnungagap_ from Jarpr's POV. Yep, there'll be scenes (like this one) that overlap between both stories, but also remember that Jarpr would be gone for days or would seem to know things (remember his dislike for Lief? Ever wonder WHY? Well you know, besides the obvious...) - that's where this story takes us. And you may notice that some of Jarpr's questions are answered in _Ginnungagap_ and some of Isabel's answered here.

For this story, current timeline puts us around late spring/early summer of 1016 AD. The timeline for the entire story (not exactly flashbacks but we will be learning about Jarpr's history and that of his family) actually moves us into 200 or so BC era.

Any ideas where "the maker" went to learn of the _Verdas?_ Purusartha is originally found in the _Verdas_ , which are ancient scriptures that are considered apauruseya ("not of man, superhuman"). What is interesting is that the _Verdas_ is amongst the oldest sacred text, grouped with say the Torah. Purusartha is about the four goals or pursuits of man, and these will come into play throughout the rest of the story, so be on the lookout. (And speaking of themes - you may notice that there's a lot of varying culture and beliefs mentioned in these stories. I didn't just randomly select these, but when we look back at history at that time, there was a lot of cross pollinating of beliefs as people were invaded, or traveled from land to another, etc.)

Not sure if you find the history notes interesting - hope so! :-) I've tried to ground a lot of this story in real history to give it a more authentic feel. At the end of the day, it's fiction and I'm having fun with it. So there might be some items out of place, out of time - that kind of thing.

Let me know what you think! 3 reviews. :-)


	3. Chapter 3: Nightmares

**Sadly, I don't own Twilight, but I do enjoy having fun with the characters. :-) I don't have a beta, so all typos are my own fault. A/N at the end of the chapter.**

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I ran.

I ran from her chamber, down the hall, exited the palace, and into the welcoming arms of the forest.

Madness – the call that beckoned me to take the young Queen nearly overwhelmed me. To take her blood, to sink my teeth into her warm, buttery skin and drink of the elixir that sang to me and yet I knew I wanted her in other ways. In ways that were normal for a man to want a woman – but between a demon and a human – well that was also madness. The feel of her skin beneath my fingers was burned into my mind and even away from her; my fingers seemed to hum from the phantom presence of her flesh.

Had the ache in my chest not thrummed to life, I wonder how far I would have gone. As it was, I had ran deep enough into the woods that I could not make out any thoughts, did not feel the hum of our young bond. I was alone in the darkness of the forest, alone to clear my mind.

I wanted …. No, _needed_ distance from her. Needed to regain control over my mind, over the beast within.

The dual desires raged within me. The madness threatened to return and wash over me. Control seemed to slip between my fingers and I growled my frustration.

 _Focus_. I commanded myself to focus on something. _Anything_.

 _The mission._

I shook myself to remember that I did, indeed, have a mission at hand. The sooner that mission was completed, the sooner I could properly sort out whatever _this_ was.

How much time would be needed to ferret out the truth regarding King Karl's death? Days? Weeks? Surely, no more than a month at most. With my ability to read the minds of those around me, it would not take long to determine if the King had been murdered or had indeed died a natural death.

If I focused on the mission, to uncover the thoughts of those around me regarding the King's final days, then I could be done with Dagez. Yet, I knew I also needed to find the truth about the woman fate had deemed to be my mate. Equal parts of disgust and anger rolled through me. My body's instinct to protect her; someone who I suspected played a hand in her own father's untimely death.

Yet I found myself curious about the woman as well. Was her initial fear of me because of _what_ I was or some other reason entirely? Why was her mind silent to me? Why did she refuse an audience with her husband, her _King_? Frustration rolled through my body as I struggled to remain focused.

Complete the mission.

I could not very well complete my mission out in the forest.

I could not maintain my cover; play my part out in the forest.

The servant Aaron would expect me to return and each moment that ticked by was another moment that would need to be explained. How did one explain to a mortal servant that they were preoccupied in a forest, quelling murderous desires towards the Queen?

 _Inappropriate._

I chuckled as I recalled Aaron's thoughts about the idea of me administering the Queen's massage – that it would be inappropriate, regardless that he believed me to be eunuch. Time had run out – I needed to return to the palace, be assigned my quarters, and continue to play the part of a servant gifted to the new King and Queen.

It was time to return.

With one last deep inhale of fresh air; free from the aroma of the young Queen and all the stirrings her fragrance provoked, I turned back to the palace.

Upon my return to the palace, I returned to the throne room in search of Aaron. Of course, I knew he was there, waiting impatiently for my return. He wanted to assign my quarters and be done with me.

Apparently, I made his skin crawl.

Such wisdom for someone who seemed so simple.

Aaron had paced by the large hearth in the room while his mind buzzed with irritation. _Where is he?_ The man turned on his heel to continue his pace, frustration practically vibrated from his hunched shoulders and drawn brow. Then his eyes looked upward, glanced about the room in search of me yet again, and when he did not locate me in his sweep of the room, sighed again and turned on his heel in the opposite direction. When he turned, he almost collided with my solid frame, and I held back a dark chuckle when his body withdrew, took several paces back to place space between us. Gruffly, he nodded to me, his heart pounded in his chest and blood rushed to his extremities to prepare him to flee. "Follow me," his voice tried to command me.

With that, he turned and I could see the hairs on his neck and on the exposed skin of his arms stand on end. His body screamed _danger_ to him, yet stubbornly he continued his march forward. I followed behind him, eager to be rid of the man who tried to reason away his body's reaction to my nearness, whose simplicity unnerved me. The man was loyal to his King, yet whether the loyalty was born out of respect or something else, I was unsure. Yet as I followed the old man through the halls of the palace, towards the servants' quarters, I listened to his thoughts for anything of use.

While Aaron was not a part of the King's inner circle, he had known the man prior to his rise to power months earlier. The attendant had overseen preparations and comforts for Yåkov's family when they were at the palace, which in the later years had been more frequent. It was how the older man knew of Yåkov's preferences and had – so far – escaped the man's wrath. However, it was the new King's wrath that had the attendant worried, frustrated as he showed me to my quarters. I was not the one he was waiting for so impatiently; it was another – someone whose name and face was clouded in his thoughts. Someone Yåkov had left explicit instructions to be alerted to – regardless of being otherwise occupied or not - once the unnamed person arrived.

When we arrived at the door to my chambers, Aaron pushed the door open and gestured inside, "Here are your quarters." Without another word, he turned and left me. After all, he was not _my_ attendant, a mere servant, like himself, but even so – someone beneath his own station.

I stepped inside the small quarters – a squared room with a single bed, a hearth that would go unused, and a window. The window caught my attention and I moved to the edge of the sill. It would do nicely; the opening faced the forest instead of the village and overlooked a courtyard. Should anyone become suspicious of me, the window would be an easy way in and out of the room that due to the height would not be monitored.

Satisfied with the room, though I knew I did not truly need it, I turned to the door to return to the throne room to learn whom exactly Yåkov waited for so eagerly. Who was the mystery person in the attendant's thoughts? The man or woman who should have already arrived and risked Yåkov's wrath for the older man? Perhaps they would be unimportant, but it was somewhere to start my investigation. Crouched low, I listened for any who would be in the halls, to ensure they would not see my exit from the room.

 _No! Please no!_

The damned bond pulled against me. My body reacted instinctively, spine straight, growl rumbled in my chest, and fingers curled into claws. Something was wrong. Through the thoughts of my family, I had experienced – to a lesser degree – the mating bond. The tenor of the bond changed based on circumstances. It seemed to alert the other when their mate was happy, scared, or even in danger. And the damn bond was screaming _danger_ and _fear_ at me in droves. Could the damn Queen not even be left alone to sleep? Did she not have other servants? No, I would not be a slave to the bond, especially to a woman I did not know or even like. She was in the palace, surrounded by guards, sleeping in her bedchamber – she would be fine.

 _Need you!_

 _Please! Help me!_

The bond screamed in my head, bore down on me – it demanded that I pay attention; that I attend to my mate. Torn between returning to the throne room to identify the mystery visitor or speeding to the young Queen's side, I growled in frustration. Why now?

 _Please!_

Fear and danger had escalated to absolute terror and I could not ignore the pleadings any longer. I swore under my breath as I turned in the opposite direction and dove from the window to land silently on the greenery of the courtyard below. To the left was the fastest route to the Queen's chambers, and I blurred through the darkness, the shadows covering my inhuman movements. Time seemed to stand still as I rushed to her side – while worry and fear seemed to slink through my defenses, my anger and irritation at having been bothered by her. I did not like the woman, but I begrudgingly noted that I did not really _know_ her either. There was a faint whisper in my head, a seed of hope, that suggested that perhaps I would like her, could love her, and my hesitation could ruin the chance of happiness I had been offered. That however, only spiked my irrational fear and pushed me to move even faster to get to the Queen.

Fucking hope.

The door to her chambers came into view – once again without a guard, something as her house Karl I would need to remedy – and I nearly took the door off the hinge to enter the chamber. I paused inside the doors, threw out my senses to discover anything out of the ordinary. No signs of entry after I had left. We were utterly alone in her chambers. There was only one wet heartbeat – and it sounded as if it would pound right out of her chest. Her breathing was erratic, short pants and puffs and wheezes that spoke of the utter terror she was experiencing. Anger rolled through me, white hot as I imagined someone hurting what was _mine._ Without even deciding to move, I was through the doors to her inner chambers, needed to see her with my own eyes – but was without a plan for anything that would come after.

Her room was quiet, save the thunder of her heart and pants of her breath. The moon bathed her body under the sheets, outlined her legs that kicked in an unseen struggle. I could taste her perspiration in the air, the sweet taste of her sweat and the tang of her fear.

There was no attack, I realized. Rather, the young woman was in the middle of an extremely vivid nightmare and would most likely wake at any moment. I looked about the room – unwilling to leave her, but needed an excuse to be there when she awoke, which based on her heart rate, would be any moment. A lantern sat on the edge of her bed table and I quickly retrieved it and exited the room. Only two more wet beats of her heart and then the screaming began. The cries ripped through her as I heard her body shoot straight up in the bed, the sobbing cries that fell from her lips as she panted, tangled in the bedcovers.

Unable to wait, I pushed through the doors to enter her inner chamber again. "Highness, are you alright?" I called to alert her to my entry.

"Jarpr, thank gods. You startled me," she whispered, her voice hoarse from the screams. "Come near, I cannot see you plainly."

I drew closer to her, sat on the edge of her bed, "I am here, Highness. Are you well?" Of course, I knew that she was safe, that she had not been harmed – yet still, I needed her confirmation that she was all right.

"Water, please. My throat burns." I withdrew from her bed to retrieve the requested water. Yet it did not escape my notice that her body leaned towards the direction of mine, as if she desired my nearness, the proximity. When I returned with the tankard of water, I handed it to her – fingers itching to brush against her flesh as she reached for the tankard, and watched as she eagerly gulped down the cool liquid. "Thank you, that is much better." The movements of her throat mesmerized me as she swallowed the water, her lips that hugged the edge of the cup, and the soft sound of her breathing – all seemed to tempt me, to draw me closer. Yet, it was her lingering fear that weighed heavily in the air, that brought me back to myself – that cleared my thoughts and desires.

Worry settled in my gut, it seemed my lot to experience these unfamiliar emotions with her nearness. I found myself wanting to touch her, to ease her fear. "May I help you relax Highness?" The words slipped through my lips before I had even considered the offer. She nodded in silent reply. "Lay down," I instructed and gestured to the soft bedding beneath her.

Her body was tense – from either the nightmare or anticipation of our skin touching again. Anticipation rolled through me and the air hummed around me. Despite my mixed feelings towards the woman in the bed, I ached to touch her again, to feel her skin beneath mine, to have her heat sear through me. Then, I touched her – skin to skin, as her heat poured into me, the hum roared in my ears – and it was wonderful.

Carefully, mindful of my strength and how easily I could break her, I kneaded the tight muscles and knots in her shoulders, ghosting over the materials of her dressing gown. Her eyes slid closed and her bunched muscles relaxed under my fingers. The soothing pulse of her heart whispered to me, relaxed each worried thought that had only moments ago pulled and yanked me towards her chambers.

"Jarpr," she murmured, "tell me more about your life and where you live."

For a moment, my hands stilled, and then resumed running my fingers along a soothing circuit over the curves of her back. What to share with her? Without trust, I knew I had to be cautious – not giving away my mission or the truth of what I was. Yet, with a sigh, I found myself being more transparent with her than I planned, "Tyr is a beautiful and diverse country. It would be difficult to know where to begin."

She murmured in acknowledgment. This small token prompted me to continue. "Ours is a culture with traditions very similar to yours. We're in a period of prosperity, so the King often hosts parades and celebrations to recognize those who have ushered in this current era. Our resources are plentiful. The farmlands are fertile. The hunting and fishing are bountiful. There are mines and rock quarries in some of the outlying areas that I have heard are producing at record levels." This was normal information to share, was it not? To speak about the abundance of my current homelands – the pride I felt that my people were well cared for, that we protected and provided for them. "There are beautiful ruins throughout the realm, cairns as tall as a giant," I chuckled to myself as Emmett's face flashed in my mind, his easy but competitive nature that on more than one occasion left some mark on the landscape around us. "I've even heard whispers of stories that the gods made them."

Intrigued, she asked, "Tell me some of those stories."

I thought of the stories the villagers whispered, to their children in their beds at night or the seers to their enraptured audiences. I remembered the shock the first time the family had overheard a story. It had been during a wedding celebration, for Emmett and Rose, and an old man with a hunched back had whispered the story to inebriated audience. I shared the story of my family with her, of Ansuz the Father and the wife, sons, and daughter he had created for his family. I asked her of the Isa Mountains and was unsurprised to learn she had been named after the range that separated Dagez from Tyr.

Almost too soon, her body relaxed, her breathing deep and steady – she was close to sleep. I knew I should leave; yet I paused – wanting to spend any time with her that I could. Equally, I hated and rejoiced in those feelings – hated myself for giving into the feelings and elated that finally, I had found her. As I gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, I gazed upon her face – relaxed and vulnerable in her almost sleep. Could I love her? She had surprised me with her questions that had been colored in what almost sounded like concern for me. Sincere. I believe she was sincerely curious about me and perhaps even worried for me. Why would she worry? Was she more than I knew or presumed? In the still of the night, with only the light from the lantern at the bedside, I allowed myself to hope, to embrace the possibility that I could love her – really love her beyond the bond that pulled us together.

Silently, I leaned closer to inhale her scent and ghost my lips across her cheek. _Please,_ I prayed, _please. I want to love you. More than anything, I want this._ Yet, I knew I could not accept the woman I believed her to be, so I hoped against hope that I was completely wrong. I had to be strong – strong enough to turn away from her, to reject the bond if need be – no matter how much I wanted this, I had to also want _her_. I had to protect myself, keep some distance, and finish the mission. Only then could I refocus on the woman before me and make any decisions. Steeling my resolve, I rose from the bed and left the room.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I feel like a broken record - "I'm sorry ... So sorry ... Please accept, my apology ...". I owe you a much better explanation so here's a little about me: long story short - my job has changed drastically over the past year. I took a new role, but travel increased and when traveling _and_ working on a Master's degree and trying to sleep at some point, something had to give. Since the beginning of this year, my role changed drastically and travel ramped up even further - to now 3 to 4 weeks a month (yep - you read that right). _And_ still working on Master's degree. And, my kids just started their first year of middle school a few weeks ago... So with that, life has been crazy to say the least. I am trying to get on some kind of schedule - so if you are still with me, still reading - I cannot express my gratitude for your patience.

 _Ginnungagap_ overlap - I'm trying to minimize overlap here, for example I cut out the entire story that Jarpr shared with her regarding the gods of his lands. If you haven't read _Ginnungagap_ yet, then there might end up being some things that you miss (like the gods story). If there's a reason for me to keep it (like Jarpr wondering if what he shared was "normal") then I keep the content to share the different perspective.

We can see Jarpr is a bit torn here - he _wants_ a mate but he doesn't want _her_ as his mate (and is a little bitter about fate's humor). So what did you think?


	4. Chapter 4: Handmaidens

**I do not own Twilight. All copyrights belong to SM. Author's notes at the end.**

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After quietly closing the door to the Queen's chambers, I leaned heavily against the thick wood separating us and allowed my suddenly weary body to slide slowly down to the floor. The cloud that seemed to settle over my senses in her presence seemed thinned, the tug muted to the background of my thoughts. How was I to accomplish this mission with her as a distraction? Would I be able to remain unbiased?

 _What if she did kill her father? What if I have to kill her?_ The thought brought my mind to a sudden halt. Logically, I knew I did not _have_ to kill anyone, that I was free to make those choices alone, however I came prepared to murder the guilty party and I had not considered the consequences if she was actually guilty. What would that do to me? Would I survive murdering my mate? True, the bond had not been completed and though I felt the draw, the tug, the allure - the bond was young and still weak. I had to keep my distance, operate away from her as much as possible so I would not be swayed to one outcome over another.

My thoughts were interrupted as I felt several minds drawing near the Queen's chambers. Throwing my senses out in a wide net, I listened for their thoughts.

 _Tired._ It was the repeating theme that each of them thought. The day had been difficult and they longed to crawl into their beds, allow their minds and bodies to drift, and sleep to take hold of them.

 _But where are their rooms?_

I had not noticed any additional rooms along the hall and assumed that this wing of the castle was reserved for the Queen. Then I realized - these must be her handmaidens. I had noticed a room off to the side of the sitting room, opposite the Queen's bedchambers. The thought was confirmed as I continued to listen in to their thoughts. One girl's exhaustion was second only to her weary thought of checking on the Queen before slipping into her bed.

 _Cannot have them waking the Queen._

Quickly, I stood and flitted back to the hall to stand next to the entry of the Queen's chambers so that when they rounded the corner, they would see my silhouette in the darkness. Moments later, I heard the group pause at the end of the hall and their whispers to one another. "Who is that?"

The question solidified my concern that guards were not regularly posted to the Queen's chambers. I could not fathom _why_ she did not appear to have a Queen's guard and specifically someone to guard her rooms. The previously exhausted woman, a tall with golden hair and violet eyes that almost glowed in the darkness - Nada, a mind supplied - slowly bent down towards her feet and withdrew a small blade from a hiding place. _Ahhh…. Were her handmaidens her secret guards? Was this common knowledge?_ I tucked away the information to investigate at a later time.

Nada nodded towards the other women and took the lead walking down the hall towards me. Did they mean to sneak up on me? I could hear the devotion to the Queen in their thoughts - they genuinely cared for her and wanted to ensure her safety. One stray thought caught my attention.

 _After what that bastard did to her . . ._

Anger welled up inside of me at the thought of someone, anyone harming her and I forced it back down. All the while reminding myself that I would have to detach myself from her. The women drew closer and I considered my options - to act human, tired, weak, and allow them to take me by surprise - encourage them to underestimate me, or to show them a glimpse of the real me - alert, strong, someone able to protect their Queen. These women were possibly warriors in their own right - they would not respect someone they felt they could best in a fight. No - I needed to give them a glimpse of who I really was, earn their respect - I may need it in the future.

As they drew near, I leaned casually against the wall, my shoulder supporting my weight and arms crossed at my chest. To human eyes, the women were hidden by the long shadows of the night, but to my clear vision, I could see them drawing closer.

"I can see you," I inclined my head towards them and beckoned them closer with a pull of my hand. "What business do you have here? Speak quickly."

Nada walked at the head of the group, her blade catching in the moonlight and reflecting the soft beams. "Who are you?" She gruffly asked.

"I am Her Majesty's House Karl. And you are?" I already knew who they were, but they would be suspicious if I did not ask it of them.

"We are Her Majesty's handmaidens. The Queen does not have a House Karl - so who are you really?" Nada took another step closer, the other women following her lead.

"Ah, we have not been properly introduced then," I stood properly before the women, stretching to my full height and smiled at them - showing all my teeth. Of course, this had the desired effect and I noticed a few of them unconsciously shivering. Nada however had no such reaction. "I am Jarpr, and was sent as a wedding present to the King and Queen from the land of Tyr. Earlier this evening, His Majesty assigned me as Her Majesty's House Karl. I have administered the Queen's massage and since I noticed there was no guard, am standing watch until I can assign one for her quarters."

Nada's mind considered the information. Since her coronation, the Queen had refused a House Karl - another oddity - and insisted only on her handmaidens. It appeared from the group gathered before me, seven women, and I wondered if they were all trained to defend the Queen or if only Nada and perhaps the woman to her side were skilled in combat. Shifting her weight, Nada nodded towards a shorter girl with dark hair braided down her back and contrasting light eyes stepped forward. "Go find Aaron and confirm if what he says is truth," Nada commanded the girl.

The girl - Ava as Nada's mind provided, silently nodded and she walked quickly down the hall. "I hope what you are saying is true, for your sake sir." The threat rang clear in her tone.

I smirked back at her, "Ahhh, I pity that poor girl. Aaron was in a foul mood when he took me to my chambers. Although, perhaps her pretty face will soften him to her." Inwardly, I doubted it - the old man seemed like the type to be short tempered with anyone who crossed his path. Except however Yåkov - I imagined he kept his anger quiet in the King's presence.

My smirk was met with cold and stoney faces from the women, though as I touched each of their minds, I read that they were uncomfortable with me - even though they did not understand why.

The silence stretched on as they looked at me and I continued to flip through their thoughts. Apparently, the Queen had sent them to the fishing village huddled on the coast with food and supplies. A storm had recently passed through with winds strong enough to topple the smaller fishing boats and pounding waves that would have kept the boats under the waters, drowning anyone on board. Families had spent days watching the choppy waters, praying to the gods for relief as they watched their food supplies and monies dwindle. Once the waters had calmed and the people were able to safely venture out, they noticed their roofs and lands had taken considerable damage. Izabel _\- no, the Queen_ \- had sent her handmaidens to the fishing village with food for them and supplies to make the repairs. However, seeing the worn faces of the men and women alike, the women could not just leave the supplies. They had stayed behind and helped with the repairs, which had resulted in a longer than expected day. As I looked through their thoughts, I was touched by the love they had for their people. Even though each thought of the day was laced with utter exhaustion, it was also tinged with affection they held for the people. Worn faces morphing into smiles and sorrow filled eyes that melted into hope seemed to play on repeat as these remarkable women rigidly stood in the hallway.

They were utterly exhausted - barely standing - yet their loyalty for the Queen had them upright and on alert. Not a single woman resented the Queen for not being with them or for sending them to the village. Perhaps these women could be trusted with the Queen's safety - at the very least their thoughts would surely be good sources of information.

Finally, Ava returned with a very disgruntled Aaron trailing tiredly behind her. _Not sure why the girl insisted I return with her. I should be in bed sleeping._ As he neared me, his body reminded him of my unnaturalness and he took a few steps back placing more distance between himself and me. He grunted at Ava and then pointed at me, "That is the Queen's new House Karl. Just arrived from Tyr today - some kind of wedding present from their King." Without waiting for any replies, he turned sharply on his heel and began back the way they came. He paused and looked over his shoulder towards Ava and Nada, "Do not bother me again with such trivial matters," he sneered and walked away.

Turning back towards me, Nada slightly inclined her head, "Apologies. Jarpr - was it?"

I nodded.

"Well, you are dismissed. With our return, the Queen will be looked over."

I arched my eyebrow - they did not say they would guard or protect her, so perhaps I was not supposed to know that Nada and possibly Ava were warriors? Playing my role, I scrunched my face into one of worry and concern, "No offense ladies, however the Queen should be protected by a guard."

Nada was loosing patience - exhaustion was wearing her thin. "We will send for a guard. Good night sir." She nodded her head at me, effectively dismissing me, and then walked past me to open the chamber door. The group walked past me leaving only Nada holding the door, then looking back at me as the last woman entered. Without a word, she firmly shut the door in my probably surprised face.

* * *

 _**Waives**_ Hi there! Here is a short chapter that was the most challenging to write (I'm sure I'll be challenged by other chapters as well). As mentioned in _Ginnungagap_ , I wrote some chapters from JPOV to better write the Izabel's POV. However, there were sometimes several chapters in between that were not written (for example the next chapter that had been written from JPOV is _Ginnungagap_ Chapter 7: The First Encounter).

I'll share a secret with you - but promise not to tell anyone else. ;-) Come close ... little closer... When I first began _Ginnungagap_ , it was an idea that started in the middle of the story (Chapter 21:One Night) and I originally wrote Chapter 21 through the end. After I wrote out a very rough draft (that later drastically changed as I got to know my Izabel), I researched Vikings - their history and culture, and the very real place where I wanted this story to take place. Finally, I began writing from the beginning of the story to get to Chapter 21. Can I just say that after writing the first chapter, I drew a blank for the longest time? Every time I wrote a chapter, I felt so bored by what I was writing. I just wanted to get to the action. I really enjoy reading slow burns - but writing them is a whole other story. :P I'm just too impatient - but didn't want the story to drag or feel rushed.

When it came time to start plugging in the holes between chapters, I was initially excited until I started to feel bored with it again. I did not want a whole story of just the same scenes and information from JPOV. So I've been spending time immersing myself in Viking culture and rereading _Ginnungagap_ to make sure everything aligns, but while also filling in some of those gaps (remember we won't see Jarpr for almost three whole chapters in _Ginnungagap_ ). In my notes, I knew what he was doing and learning - but now comes the struggle of putting it to paper. Perhaps everyone who likes to write feels this way? Perhaps it's just me.

For those of you still reading - thank you for your patience and continued support. :-)


	5. Chapter 5: The Maze

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.

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Having been firmly dismissed from the Queen's chambers, I decided to locate Aaron and hopefully, the visitor he had been expecting on behalf of the King. Tracing his scent back to his quarters was easy enough, however he had already fallen into a deep slumber. Frustrated, I returned to the hall outside the Queen's chambers and listened.

The women were sleeping in their beds - their wet heartbeats and occasional soft snores the background noise to the one heartbeat for which I listened. The Queen slept soundly in her bed, no further nightmares to plague her sleep. I was amazed at how the time slipped by as I listened only to the sound of her breathing - wishing I could watch her as she slept, yet stubbornly remaining outside in the hall. I reminded myself over and over to keep my distance until I had seen this investigation through to the end.

The moon waned in the sky and soon the morning birds were heralding the rise of the sun. Her handmaidens began to rise and prepare for their day. Each morning they ventured down to the kitchens to gather food for the outlying villages where they would take whatever they could gather to feed those in need. Later, the Queen would venture down to the same kitchen and feed those in the village outside the palace as I had observed her do the previous day. They wanted to return so they could assist Her Majesty in preparing for her morning training in the maze. _Interesting. I wonder what that entails?_ In order to find out, I knew I would need to separate the handmaidens from their mistress so that I could escort her to her training.

How to best get them out and away from the Queen's chambers? Thinking quickly - I decided to visit the kitchen. Not hearing any thoughts, I ran through the hall and down the stairs towards the kitchens. Slowing to a human pace, I walked down the final steps and looked around at the kitchen staff. The youth who was turning the bread in the oven was singularly focused on not burning the bread. He had already burnt two loaves and had received swift punishment for his carelessness. There were a few men and women all busy with tasks from slicing fruit, stirring pots of oats, roasting meat, or adding honey for the bread to small bowls. In the corner, observing the bustle of the kitchen was an older woman - probably the one who punished the boy for burning the bread. It seemed she was the one I needed to speak with. Maintaining my human facade, I shuffled uncertainly to the woman, "Excuse me."

Her sharp eyes looked over at me. "Yes, young man."

"I am Jarpr - the Queen's new House Karl and was sent to check on the loads for her handmaidens. I am told they will need to pick them up earlier than usual this morning."

Her brows pulled together and she frowned. Sighing deeply - a frustrated sound, she replied, "Yes, yes. - that is fine. We will have their baskets ready. When will they be down?"

Doing my best to look sheepish I answered, "In just a few moments. They are preparing to head this way shortly."

Throwing her hands up she looked out to the boy with the bread, "You! Hurry it up! That bread needs to be finished before the Queen's ladies come down!" Then turning towards an older man tying together leafy vegetables, "And you! Finish up three more bundles before Her Majesty's ladies arrive!" She paused to look at me again, "Are you going to stand there in my way? Get out or get to work."

With that, she walked away from me and pushed aside the old man and directed him to help the boy while her weathered hands began bundling together the leafy vegetables and with a speed shocking for her age, began tying them together before moving on to the next bunch.

Sliding between the now hurried bodies moving about, I slipped from the kitchen and traveled back to the Queen's chambers. When I returned, all of the women had woken and were preparing for their day. Among their morning movement and tired chatter, I could still hear the rhythmic breathing of the Queen, sleeping soundly in her bed. It was time to get her handmaidens out of their chambers so I could have more time with the Queen.

I rapped my knuckles against the thick wood a few times and listened for the handmaidens to approach. The door soon opened and Ava stood in front of me, she appeared more rested, but still tired. Yawning she asked, "Yes? What is it?"

"My Lady, the kitchen said the loads are ready. Should I let them know you will be there soon?"

She nodded tiredly and closed the door. On the other side of the door, I could hear her sharing the information with the other women. Feet shuffled across the floor as the women hurried to finish readying themselves to depart the room. A few moments later, the door opened again as the women began to spill out of from the room. At the end of the line was Nada, who turned to see me again standing next to the door. She paused, as if considering whether she was willing to leave me with the Queen, then as another woman tugged on her sleeve - decision made, she nodded once at me and left. As they walked down the hall, Nada paused and looked back, "Please let Her Highness know that we left early and will return after."

"Yes, My Lady."

Apparently satisfied with my reply, she turned and continued down the hall.

I waited until they were collecting food from the kitchen before I moved into the Queen's chambers and slipped into her quarters. Despite my earlier decision to distance myself from her, I needed to look in on her before she woke. Her face was relaxed with sleep, her heart beat a steady, soothing rhythm. Instantly, I felt my body relax as I drank her in. I found that I had _missed_ her during the night. Concern shot through me - if I missed her already while the bond was new and weak, how would I feel weeks from now? Did the bond strengthen the more time we spent together? I needed to put more effort into maintaining distance from her, yet only a day after meeting her - I was so drawn to her.

Although I understood the bond on an a basic level, I could not fathom how someone so small, so insignificant, could hold such a pull over me. _She has always been so close._ I realized with a shock all the little details that happened for me to come to Dagez. Without the vision or her father's death, I doubted I would have thought to search for her _here._ I may have missed the opportunity to find my mate. Frustrated, I shook my head to clear my thoughts. _No._ I refused to allow myself to think of those things. First, I had to finish the mission, then I could allow myself to know the Queen - to understand who she was as a person.

Slowly, she began to stir - her heartbeat picked up and her breath quickened, her body's signal that she would soon wake. Silently, I slipped from her sleeping quarters and waited on the other side of the door for her to wake. When she woke, she rolled around in her bed and the most beautifully disturbing sound occurred - she moaned. It sparked something inside me, jerked me closer to the door, alerted every sense - and overall generally irritated me as I noted my body's response to her. Grinding my teeth, I stubbornly remained rooted to the spot where I stood.

I could hear her slowly exiting the bed and then opening the heavy doors to her wardrobe. I could hear her hands as they shuffled through the garments in search of an outfit. When I heard the soft sound of fabric hitting the ground, I lost the battle of wills with myself, and loudly entered the Queen's chambers. She turned to me - surprised at first by my presence - then jutted her chin out and upwards, met my gaze, and greeted me with a firm, "Good morn, Jarpr."

My body had two opposing reactions to the sight that greeted me. The Queen was dressed only in her undergarments and my eyes quickly traveled down and back up her bared flesh. _Exquisite._ The sun kissed the tops of her bare shoulders - her dark locks ghosting past the curve of her chest and down to the middle of her back. The other warring emotion - _hunger._ With her skin so exposed, I could easily see the veins pumping her life essence through her body, could hear the rhythmic _thump thump_ as her heart beat.

A breeze drifted through the balcony window and tickled her skin - in that moment, she realized how bare she was and blood colored her cheeks. Quickly she directed me to turn around, which allowed me the opportunity to control myself.

However when she allowed me to turn back to face her, I was unsure which sight had been more tempting - her bared skin from her state of undress, or the cloth that clung to every inch of her skin - teasing at what lay beneath. Quickly, I composed my face into a blank state - careful not to give away the feelings that swirled beneath, the feelings and temptations that whispered to me.

The young Queen walked quickly about the room - piled her hair high atop her head exposing her slender ivory neck, and pulled on buttery leather boots that also seemed to mold to her as a second skin. Evenly I asked her if she was ready to leave her chambers and with a curt nod she walked quickly past me.

The night before Aaron had prattled on about the Queen's schedule and the important items I needed to be prepared for - including that she enjoyed walking through her family's gardens. I absently wondered if this was what her maidens had meant when they had thought of preparing her for her training in the maze. Stealing a glance to my side as walked, I lazily drank in her outfit - the bone colored cloth that clung to every curve and valley, that left little to the imagination of what lay beneath. Yet, when I took a step back - put aside the reactions she evoked and the lust that her presence alone sparked, the outfit seemed more appropriate for evasive training. The material appeared thin - breathable even if the body was covered in a layer of sweat - while also thick enough to protect the skin against surface scratches from stray branches and thorns. The material protected her wrists and the tops and palms of her hands - leaving only her slender fingers exposed. Yes - it was a training outfit.

 _Training for what?_

My mind attempted to conjure reasons for the Queen to train in evasive techniques - _perhaps part of a larger more comprehensive training routine?_

When we arrived to the maze, I recognized it instantly. _This was the maze Carlisle trained Kiev in._ I remembered her ancestor, King Kiev who had visited us shortly after we had killed the Wolf King and his soldiers. Kiev had arrived with an offer of assistance from Dagez for the rebuilding of Tyr and with food and supplies for the people whose homes had been destroyed by the Wolf King's tyranny. Carlisle had been touched by the human's thoughtfulness and invited Kiev to stay at the palace. During Kiev's time with us, Carlisle had trained Dagez's King in strategy - teaching him the importance of critical and creative thinking when it came to survival. While the two men became fast friends - we had not crossed the mountain range during his lifetime to visit his palace or kingdom and were unaware of the maze that had been built. It seemed that Kiev had duplicated our maze to the best of his memory - from the sprawling trees no doubt intended for stealth and archery training, the small armory at the yawning entrance, and undoubtedly traps were laid throughout the small maze. A small smile tugged at the corner of my mouth from the fondness we had all felt toward Kiev and his heirs.

It reminded me why I was there, in the palace, play acting as a human servant to a mate I may despise.

Scowling, I adjusted my face into an impassive mask and waited for the Queen to release me. The Queen however seemed lost in her own thoughts. Absently, she chewed on her bottom lip - her eyes seemed distant as if she were deep in thought and her body seemed to draw closer to me.

 _Does she feel the pull?_

In the distance, I could hear approaching footsteps and one heartbeat. Although I could remain with the Queen, I felt an urgent need to hide in the shadows to observe unseen. Quickly I requested the Queen's permission to leave and departed at a frustrating human pace. Once out of sight, I took the trees of the maze to observe the young Queen as she paced about the armory, apparently debating which weapon she would choose. Decision made, she reached for two small knives and tucked them securely into each boot before she entered the maze. Eyes closed, breathing deeply, she stood quietly for a moment, and in my mind I recalled Carlisle standing there with Kiev.

Kiev had stood in a similar spot in our maze with his eyes also closed as Carlisle had instructed him, "Keep your eyes closed. Inhale deeply and tell me what you smell, what you feel - use your senses to tell me about your surroundings." The rest of us had listened to Carlisle's words to Kiev with some humor from different sections of the maze. We knew Kiev's senses were not as heightened and sharp as ours, but it was a skill Carlisle was determined to help Kiev hone - to sense his environment, to be alerted to danger or identify resources. It appeared, as I observed the little Queen below, the practice had been handed down through each generation.

Initially, Kiev had been frustrated with his early attempts to identify his surroundings without using his sight. However, as Carlisle had continued to push him each session, he had improved. In his final session, when Carlisle had instructed him to close his eyes and reach out with his senses, Kiev had chuckled before sharing with his friend what he felt around him, "Your son is here, I can hear him in the maze - most likely in search of somewhere to ambush me from. The air feels dry - I will need to be mindful of my footing because the leaves are also dried and while make too much sound."

The King of Dagez had surprised us - his ability to adapt and learn and his sincerity made him unique and special to us. His departure from Tyr had come too soon and his death - while several years later - also felt as if it had come too soon.

The little Queen hastily scrambled from the front of the maze in search of a hiding spot, possibly to ambush someone from. Keeping the entrance in sight, I followed her through the trees as she pushed deeper into the maze. I paused as she lingered at the fork. _What is she waiting for?_ I was curious and though I did not need to be closer to her for a better view, I still moved further down the tree - perhaps to only be physically closer to her. The hum washed through my body and I paused to enjoy the moment as I felt her nearness. Her breath hitched and I could see her eyes scan the area - falling to the shadows where I hid. With a shock, I realize the human Queen _felt_ my nearness. It seemed the bond impacted her through more than just skin to skin contact. When she sprinted down the path, I returned to the treetops to watch the entrance.

I did not wait long before a guard approached the maze. As he stood by the entrance, another guard approached him and clasped a hand to the first guard's shoulder. "You are released. His Majesty has asked that I work with the Queen today."

The first guard - a man with braided auburn hair, eyed the second warily. "I'm afraid I don't know you sir," the first guard responded.

"I'm new," the second man explained, "And was assigned to the Queen's Guard."

Alarm shot through me - assigned to the Queen's Guard? From what I had observed, she had no Queen's Guard. Apparently, I was not the only one to acknowledge the slip. "Er, Her Majesty does not have a Queen's Guard. Perhaps whoever assigned you was mistaken?"

The second man smirked at the first, "Well, she does now. His Majesty's Karl, Aaron assigned me to Her Majesty. Please, feel free to speak with him."

I did not like this. Who was this man? His mention of Aaron made me instantly suspicious of him. I could not imagine the cranky old man spending any of his time on a guard, even if it was someone being assigned to the Queen.

"Your name sir?"

The second man chuckled as he walked past the first guard, "Leif," he nodded and then turned quickly on his heel and entered the maze.

The first guard stood debating at the entrance for a moment - should he leave his Queen alone in the maze with this unknown man or stay behind _just in case_. I monitored the activity in the maze while Leif searched for the Queen, while listening to the first guard's thoughts.

The auburn haired man was loyal to the Queen. Like the old woman whose thoughts I had listened to the previous day, he worried for his Queen. He had known Izabel - _the Queen_ \- I corrected myself, since childhood. His father had been a guard in her father's service and his mother one of the Queen's ladies. As he grew up in the palace, he had known the royal family's secret - that the women were sometimes more lethal than the men.

Apparently, Kiev had taken our training with him very seriously.

The man turned on his heel to search for Aaron and confirm Leif's story.

Though I liked the guard, I felt frustrated that he left the Queen unattended. It seemed, he also felt that Queen could handle herself should the man prove to be an imposter.

I turned my focus back to Leif and the Queen. He was struggling to find the Queen and his thoughts revealed his frustration. _"Where is she hiding?"_ He had a pressing matter he wanted to discuss with her. Probing further into his mind, I saw a young girl - beaten by other guards. He wanted the Queen to save the girl. Though something struck me as off with the man, I could understand _if_ he had lied to the first man, why he had done so. Mentally, I tasked myself to keep a closer eye on this guard - especially if he spent any more time with the young Queen. Assuming that he found her.

The Queen had been nearly silent to human ears, Leif in comparison was loud - gulping in air as he ran about the maze, his boots smacked loudly against the ground - snapping twigs in his pathway.

 _Where are you little Queen?_ I wondered. Throwing my senses out, I searched for her heartbeat and the pull. _Ahhh there she was._ She had pulled herself into a tree, but again had felt my nearness it seemed and scrambled down from the branches. I chuckled to myself. It had been a good place to hide, slightly above the guard searching for her and out of sight. Humans rarely looked up - so she would have been safe there for a time.

Lief turned another corner, gaining ground on the Queen and she quickly ducked behind a tall shrub and crouched low to the ground. She was not as careful when she chose that hiding spot, and a stray branch or thorn must have scratched her skin because the scent of blood danced over the air to me. Without thought, I flitted towards her hiding spot, came from behind her in the underbrush. My mouth watered as her blood called sweetly to me. Again, she felt my nearness - but instead of fleeing, her body froze. I could hear her heart pounding and her shallow, erratic pants as she attempted to remain hidden. _So close._

Although she felt me - she failed to hear me - even though I was right behind her. She smelled _wonderful_ , and my treacherous body pulled me closer still until my breath fanned the back of neck. It was her frightened yelp that pulled me from the spell and immediately I withdrew to the shadows. When she darted from the shrub, she cut herself again - deeper, and ran into the guard.

The scent of her blood was too seductive, too powerful in it's call to me and I knew I had to force myself to depart. I turned sharply on my heel and flitted back towards the Queen's chambers. I needed distance.

The woman's call over me was too strong - perhaps I should risk explaining myself to her? What would I say? Would I tell her I had come to spy in her kingdom? That I had planned the King and her murders? Would I tell her what I was? That her blood called to me and though married - she was fated to be with me? With the last thought, I shook my head. No - I could not risk telling her everything, but perhaps I could tell her _some_ of the truth. Perhaps it would be enough to gain her trust and possibly even her assistance to complete my mission. If nothing else, I could use the truth to explain why I would need to avoid her. Recalling how close I had been to loosing control in the maze, I knew I had to force myself to avoid her. Not just distance or keeping her at arm's length to focus on the mission - but I needed to physically distance myself from her until I had better control. Yet, I also needed an explanation for my prolonged absence. I had been assigned as her House Karl only the day before and could not begin disappearing without rousing suspicion.

As I neared her chambers, I heard several heartbeats. Her handmaidens had returned. I thought I had arranged enough for them to keep them busy for most of the morning. I slowed to a human pace until I reached the door and then rapped my knuckles quickly against the thick wood. Nada answered the door, "Yes?"

Inclining my head in acknowledgement, I decided to send the women on an errand. It would allow me some time to speak with the Queen alone - though I was still undecided what exactly I would say or share with her. "There is a girl in the guards' longhouse. She has been injured and Her Majesty wishes for you to retrieve the girl and bring her back to your quarters."

Nada's brow furrowed for a moment, considered my words. "Where is the Queen?"

"Training in the maze. One of the guards is searching for her." Though I knew the training was complete, and could distantly hear the guard - Lief, and the Queen speaking to one another - Nada did not need to know that information.

Thoughtfully she chewed on her bottom lip as she considered my words. In her mind, it fit with what the Queen would request - and Nada's thoughts surprised me. The Queen did seem to care about her people. Through the young woman's thoughts, I gathered that prior to her marriage, the young Queen had been very involved with her people. She had worked side by side with her handmaidens to serve the people, not only those in the village outside the palace walls, but those throughout her lands. Images of the Queen - covered in a dark leather uniform that hid her face - kneeling next to people and mending their wounds danced throughout her mind.

 _But why had the Queen stopped? What happened after her marriage that prevented her from continuing to work with her people?_ All we had heard in Tyr was of a distant and uncaring Queen. In the day I had been at the palace, I had yet to see the Queen venture further than the walls - and even that had been in disguise as a serf. Why did she conceal her identity?

After Nada considered my explanation and deemed it truthful, she waved the other women to her side and they filed out of the room to search for the injured girl in the guards' longhouses.

Silently I slipped into the Queen's chambers and waited. I considered what I had observed. The day had been interesting. The Queen did not merely walk garden mazes, she trained - in the same manner we had trained Kiev in Tyre. The auburn haired guard had thought of how lethal his mother and the previous Queen had been. Perhaps, Izabel did have a Queen's Guard - just one no one knew about or would have considered. _Who knows about the secret Queen's Guard?_

I paced the floors of her chambers as I waited for her return. The silence of the rooms without her was deafening and again I worried how quickly my body, my own state of mind had become so completely centered around her. I recalled that mates were unable to be parted, through distance or time, without a great deal of discomfort. Only now, I was personally experiencing the discomfort and I found it exceedingly distracting.

The door opened as she entered the chambers, her body hugged snugly by the bone colored linen. My mind recalled earlier when I had entered her chambers and she had been in only her underthings, the beautiful scarlet that had bloomed in her cheeks and the tops of her breasts as she realized her lack of modesty in front of me. However, she had looked no less tempting in the linen that hugged every curve and valley of her body. Just as it did when she entered the room and sensing a presence, dropped into a defensive crouch with her elbow raised as a shield while her other hand freed the knife hidden inside her boot as she crept forward into the sitting area.

 _Impressive._ _Most impressive little Queen._

Although I could watch her from my corner of her sitting area, I knew it would best to alert her to my presence. Unseen, I flitted behind her and teased, "I've sent them away," as I knew she was looking for the handmaidens I had encountered earlier. Turning sharply on her heel, one hand still gripped the knife, and the other still shielding her from attacks, she faced me.

I could feel my lips tug upwards into a smirk and felt as if I were glowing from the inside. Radiating heat and lust and _desire_. Slowly, she straightened in front of me, her form rigid as if her instincts still warned her against me or perhaps she also was battling the seemingly ever present want and desire. She did not lower the blade and this amused me greatly. "Your Highness, I am not here to harm you. You do not need that." Under my breath I added, "not that it would do you much good." Apparently, not quietly enough because it seemed she instantly heard the off handed remark and became irritated by my thoughtless comment. Her warning that I might be caught unaware only served to delight me.

"Unfortunately I was unable to spar with my opponent today, would you be interested in the challenge?" Though I knew she offered the challenge because of her wounded pride, my mind conjured several images of what sparing with the little Queen would entail. Or rather - how _I_ would prefer to spar with her.

Yes - in my mind I imagined her body flush against mine as I allowed her the initial advantage. When she thought she had me conquered, I would flip her onto her back and ravage her mouth and drink the sweet nectar that pulsed under her skin. I warred with myself for control - the imaginings of my mind had hardened my body and if I really wanted to be even slightly truthful with the young woman before me, I had to maintain control.

"Your Highness, I would feel - uncomfortable with engaging in a match such as this with a lady," it should have been an acceptable excuse, but seemed to only incite her further. Blood rushed to her cheeks, her heart beat faster, and when she inquired about the ladies in Tyr - her voice was tight with anger.

I watched as she sized me up - and wished again I could read her thoughts. While I could read her emotions from her heartbeat and breathing, and guess her intentions from her body - I was limited to _guessing_ and not _knowing_. However, it did not take me by surprise when she lunged for me, intent on attacking and therefor proving herself to me. My best guess is that she wanted to put me in my place, teach me a lesson for making assumptions about her skills. _My little mate seems a bit prideful._

Too fast for her human eyes to register, I moved behind the Queen and pushed her body against the door while caging her from behind with my body. Gently I applied pressure to her wrist until she dropped the knife so that she was not accidentally injured with her own weapon during our scuffle. Slowly, I lowered my lips to the shell of her ear and whispered, "You see, Highness, that knife did you little good."

Her warm body felt so good pressed tightly against my own. Her delicate spine arched beautifully, pressing her shoulders and ass deliciously into just the right places on my body. As she struggled against me, her body brushed against my hardness. Unconsciously, I ghosted my nose down from her ear, down her neck, and to the bend where her neck met her shoulder and breathed in her scent. The thrumming of heart, laced with the tangy sweetness of her body's reaction to being caught off guard, and her tiny pants created a beautiful blend - a wine begging to be sampled. Oh how I wanted to open my mouth to her, lick her skin, bite down, and drink deeply. Inhaling again, I smelt the blood still on her skin from her cuts in the maze and felt the demon rattle inside me again.

 _No._

 _No._

 _Move away from her._

This woman always seemed to be unravelling my control. My hands moved to her shoulders and turned her quickly to face me while also stepping away from her to provide some space between us. "Highness, I sent your maidens away. I need to speak with you - privately." The words tumbled from my mouth and I asked myself again if I was really prepared to share any part of the truth with her.

 _Yes._

The answer was yes.

Breathing deeply, prepared to share with her some truth about who I was and why I was there, I smelled her blood again. The scent called again to me and I felt my body react. Already aware of the answer, I still asked "Highness, have you been injured?"

Her brows drew together - surely she did not expect that to be what I needed to discuss with her privately. Then she lifted her hand and pulled back the material covering her hand and wrist. There were faint scratches along her hand and continued up her forearm, most were minor scratches while others had cut deeply enough that they continued to bleed. The sight of her blood - not a blush in her cheeks or smelling it pump through her body - but to see the crimson nectar on her skin - seduced me.

The demon delighted in my dazed state and without thought, I encircled the injured wrist and tugged her close again. Heat rolled from her body in waves and I smelled her arousal in the air. How would her skin taste under my tongue? How would the heat of her body feel in my mouth? Unknowingly, my grip continued to tighten on her wrist as I brought her closer still. It was her pained whimper that broke the spell. Instantly I released her and stepped back until my back hit the wooden door. I had to get away from her. _You are always running from her._

 _Regardless, I need distance or I will drink her dry while I claim her._

The danger loomed over us, and unwilling to risk another breath I quickly excused myself, "Highness, I must go."

Unconcerned with my speed or if anyone saw me, I flitted away from the little Queen and did not stop running until I was in the forest and the bond screamed at me to stop. Frustrated at my hunger, I searched for the first animal I could drain. The bloodlust pounded relentlessly in my head and only after draining several deer, did I feel back in control.

 _Dammit. Little Queen, you will be the death of me._

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 **A/N:** Hi there! I think this makes two updates in two weeks. Probably a first for me in awhile. ;-)

I don't have a lot of notes for this story, but am waiting on the edge of my seat to hear/read what you think.

Since Carlisle's only alternate ID in _Ginnungagap_ was King Vanir, I decided to keep it simple and use his real name here. If you haven't read _Ginnungagap,_ there are some spoilers already here (even in this chapter). Just giving you a heads up.

Side Note: I'm headed to the Windy City this week (for work) and the Twinerd in me is soooo excited.

Reviews are better than a sparring match with Jarpr.


	6. Chapter 6: Tyr

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. If you have not read _Ginnungagap,_ there is a major spoiler (and some smaller ones too) in this chapter.**

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I stood deep in the forest, surrounded by the fading light as blood dripped from the corners of my mouth. _Dammit._ Images danced through my mind - the young Queen in a state of undress, the sun illuminating each inch of her body, every curve wrapped snuggly in her training garb - the sight of the blood against her pale skin. Growling, I turned and sniffed the air in search of another unlucky animal who would be my meal.

Blood sloshed inside me - I knew I had drank beyond my fill, and yet with each thought of the human woman in the palace, I felt my hunger roar to life and looked for something - _anything_ \- to distract me and dampen the hunger that seemed to claw itself up from the inside.

 _Dammit. Little Queen, you will be the death of me._

As I worked to banish the sinfully tempting thoughts, I felt my mind clear - felt more in control. With a sigh, I turned back towards the palace. I knew I needed to keep myself occupied if I hoped to place any distance between the young Queen and myself. Determined, I decided to visit the guards' longhouse - while I did not expect to gain any useful information, I could attempt to identify those involved in the beating and violation of the girl.

Trees blurred by as I circled around the palace and entered the far end of the longhouse. Silently, I moved through the halls as I listened in on the few thoughts and conversations within the rooms. There were not many men around, most were on guard duty, and others sleeping soundly in preparation for their night shift. The few that were there and awake, thought of their families, money, and ale. No thoughts really captured my attention and frustrated, I decided to return at night, when the men responsible might return and notice the absence of the girl.

In the meantime, I decided to use my position as the Queen's house karl to speak with guards throughout the castle under the guise of assembling a Queen's guard. Returning to the castle, I kept to a human speed and listened to the thoughts around me - the men at the stables were focused on their work grooming the horses or oiling the saddles, one young man was paying particular attention to Yåkov's saddle as he did not want to anger the King and receive another beating. Anger welled inside me as I thought of anyone being beaten for something as simple as a saddle. The King appeared to be a bastard through and through, I could not fathom how he had been matched with the Queen. And yet …. I recalled the old woman's thoughts from the day before - she had thought of what a poor match the King and Queen were, had wondered what the Queen's father had seen in Yåkov. I found myself agreeing, but quickly pushed the thought from my mind. It seemed every thought came back to the young Queen. I needed to focus.

Rounding the corner, I stepped through the main doors of the palace. The doors to the Great Hall were closed and I wondered if Yåkov was inside. Yet, when I listened for what lay beyond I was met with silence. Curious. If the room was empty, why were the doors closed? To the side of each door stood a guard. I walked towards them and inclined my head in a silent acknowledgment as I approached. "Hello. I am Her Highness' new house karl. Is His Highness inside?"

The first guard looked at me and shook his head, "No. He was here earlier though. Is Her Highness looking for him?" The first man doubted that the Queen would be searching for her husband. It had been noticed that she had avoided the new King since their marriage, and from the man's thoughts, neither of the guards had blamed her. Yåkov had been known to fly into rages for small and petty reasons and had servants and guards alike beaten for perceived slights against him. Both guards appeared relieved that the King was not in the hall and hoped they would not see him again before their duty finished for the day.

"No, she is not. I am new to Dagez and had a few questions for His Majesty's house karl Aaron. I had assumed that Aaron would be here with the King," I briefly explained. Inclining my head so as to include both men I continued, "Perhaps either of you could be of assistance."

The second man blinked owlishly, apparently Aaron ignored most of the guards - except to order them about. Recalling the rudeness his interaction with the Queen's ladies the night before, this seemed to fit his character. Both men seemed surprised that I spoke with them as equals and not as something I had stepped in.

When both men nodded I continued. "How long have each of you served within the castle?"

The first man shifted uncomfortably before clearing his throat and asking, "Why do you ask sir?"

To put the man at ease, I smiled at him - careful to hide my teeth and answered his question, "I noticed that Her Majesty is without a Queen's guard - this is quite curious, very odd. I was hoping to understand the reasoning and of course, rectify that by assigning guards to her chambers."

Again, both men appeared uncomfortable. Searching through their thoughts I discovered that they too had been raised within the palace. They had been groomed to be guards serving the King and Queen, as children had played with the little Princess and as they grew older had ….. Wait, surely that was not correct. They had _trained_ together?

Though the guards only thought of it briefly, it was clear that they had indeed trained with the young Queen. And they were not alone - seven young girls trained with the Queen and several more young boys as well. Were the young men all sons of women who had served the Queen's mother? Were there members of the guards who were not only aware of this apparent secret but also had been groomed to serve? The idea was intriguing.

Their memories solidified my earlier impression that her ladies were in fact trained in combat, yet I still worried for her safety. To keep the secret, should they not still have a Queen's guard - if for no other reason than appearances?

"Her Majesty values her privacy," stated the second guard.

As excuses went - it was a pretty thin one, however to his credit, he was attempting to keep the secret he had been entrusted with.

I nodded, "I have observed this as well. However, she is the Queen, should she not have her own guard? Is there not a King's guard?"

It was the first guard who spoke this time, although his thoughts shared something more interesting than the words he spoke, "Yes, there is a King's guard." What was left unsaid, was that the current King's guard was the first in Dagez history since Kiev. Every King and I assumed Queen, since him had not had their own guards assigned. Briefly, I mourned the lost opportunity to have discovered this fact during Kiev's reign and to understand the reasoning. Yes, it was wise for both King and Queen to be trained for combat, they should be able to defend themselves - however it would be more to their advantage if others were unaware. Lacking a guard certainly gave pause and thought as to _why_ a King or Queen was without one. Or in Yåkov's situation, it gave me pause as to why he had one. Did that indicate that he was _not_ able to defend himself? Or did he keep his own abilities a secret? Did he know her secret?

A chill raced through my limbs at the possibility that Yåkov was aware of the Queen's training and the various scenarios in which he could take advantage of such knowledge. Regardless if the Queens before her did not have a guard, she _would_ have one -whether she knew it or not, I would ensure her safety. Yet, I did not know any of the people in Dagez, did not trust them with my very human and therefor very vulnerable mate. Tyr however had many skilled guards that I did trust, that I would be more comfortable with watching the Queen while I work separately from her to complete my mission.

Looking back to the two men in front of me, I nodded my thanks to them and took my leave. It was already past mid-day and I cursed the time wasted in the forest. If I ran to Tyr, I could return by nightfall and have created my own network of guards within the palace.

Decision made, I escaped through the main doors and walked briskly through the grounds, past the wall, and into the forest. Once I was out of sight, I ran to the East with my sights set on home.

When I arrived to the border of Dagez and Tyr, I felt the bond's resistance to my distance from the Queen. The previous evening, I escaped several miles from the castle before the bond had prevented me from running further away. Was it due to her nightmares that had pulled me closer or something else? Fear shot through me as I wondered if the bond was weakened due to my intention to remove myself from her presence? Grunting, I pushed against the bond - anxious to arrive home and discuss my concerns with my Maker.

As the distance between the young Queen and myself increased, the tug became a harsh pull, then a burning in my limbs, and by time I arrived to the palace, I felt like a disoriented mess. Panting from the exertion of focusing my mind, I listened for my family. Alice must have seen my decision to return for they were gathered together in the family chambers. Clustered in one wing were all of our personal chambers, with a main sitting room that we shared to spend time together without the prying eyes of guards, attendants, or those from court. Remaining in the long shadows of the waning sun, I ran to the family sitting room.

When I entered the room, six pairs of eyes turned to face me. Carlisle and Esme turned to me with bright smiles and welcoming arms. "Ah! Edward! You have returned already. You have identified the cause of Karl's death then?"

Wincing from the pressure of the bond in my head, I shook my head. "No. I am not staying, I must return to Dagez as quickly as possible." Carlisle and Esme both appeared confused - I would not have returned to Tyr unless the mission was complete or something had occurred.

Jasper noticed the stress radiating from my body, "Edward, what happened? I have never felt such emotions from you before. It reminds me of when Alice and I …." his voice trailed off as he looked to his own mate and recognized the feeling of being separated from her.

Curtly, I nodded in acknowledgement of his assumption. "Yes, I found my mate and the bond is pounding in my mind making it difficult to focus."

Esme gasped and ran to me with open arms to embrace me. "My dear Edward! Finally! We are so happy for you! But why would you leave your mate there? Why not bring her back with you?" Her confused eyes held mine as she stepped back from me and her hands cupped my face.

I looked around the room into each of the faces of my family, "Because she is the Queen."

Silence blanketed the room as each of them processed the new information. After thousands of years, I had found my mate - a joyous occasion to be celebrated. Yet, for my mate to be a Queen - someone who could not easily disappear to join my family or who I could easily join either - and for her to be _the_ Queen I was sent to investigate and possibly kill, complicated matters in ways I had not fully considered.

Though the room itself was silent, their thoughts were not. Their thoughts were loud in my already stretched mind, overlapped with one another with notes of concern and shock.

 _What if she killed her father? Edward was so determined to kill the murderer. He could not possibly kill his own mate could he?_ Emmett's thoughts were louder than the rest as he looked to his wife, Rosalie as he wondered how he would react in my situation. Unconsciously, I growled at Emmett's thought of murdering the young Queen. Emmett's eyes met mine and he directed his thoughts to me, _Easy there, I would never harm your mate._ I nodded to him. "Sorry, Emmett," I muttered quietly.

With a sigh I turned to Carlisle, "When I ran from her last night,"

"You ran Edward?" Alice asked incredulously. "After looking for her for so long, you _ran away?_ "

"I lost control, her blood smelled so sweet and with all the emotions that happened all at once, I had to get away from her. I had to think. But when I ran last night, I was only able to make it about ten or so miles before the bond pulled me back. Tonight, I made it to the border before anything happened. Is something wrong? Why did it allow me to go further?"

Carlisle and the rest of my family considered my question. They each thought over their separation experiences and wondered if the distance had increased over time. It was Esme's quiet thoughts of how frightened she was when she felt the call to Carlisle and tried to resist - she too had fled from him in fear of feeling so strongly for someone so quickly. That first night, she had not run more than a few miles as well before the bond had abruptly yanked her back, but as she had accepted the bond, the distance had in fact increased. "That is interesting Esme, I never knew that."

Eye downcast, almost as if ashamed that she too had run, she nodded. Carlisle's quick mind realized what she must have shared and gave her a quick kiss on the crown of her head before nodding his agreement. "Yes, if you resisted the bond last night, then it may have called you back sooner than it did today. Have you accepted the bond Edward?"

"Not completely." I answered. "I need to know _her,_ but I feel as if I have accepted it on some level. She is the reason I ran here and the reason I must return quickly."

Jasper moved forward and placed his hand on my shoulder in quiet support. "Then, how can we help you return to her?"

"To be brief, she has no Queen's guard. It appears Kiev took our lessons seriously, and no King or Queen since him has had a guard. Both the King and Queen are trained to defend themselves, in the same fashion we taught Kiev. But she is _my mate_ and even though I am still somewhat resistant, her safety is important to me. I need guards - men and women we can trust - to be sent to Dagez to watch her, to help protect her so I can focus on my mission. I know that I will still worry for her, especially while she is mortal, but it will help me focus."

Jasper's thoughts were understanding - he imagined his own feelings if Alice were human and shuddered. _I will select my best guards and send them at once Edward._

"Thank you Jasper." I turned to address the rest of my family, "I must return."

With that, I ran faster than I had ever before back to Dagez. Each passing mile, the pressure lessened, until it was all but gone when I had once again crossed the border. By the time I returned to the palace, the moon had risen high in the sky and though I wanted to visit the guard's longhouse, I found myself once again outside the Queen's chamber. I supposed that I had kept away from her almost the entire day had to count as a start to keeping my distance. Yet, like a man needed air to survive, I already needed to see the young Queen with an urgency I had not known existed. Listening in the hall outside her chambers, I heard one additional heartbeat as her ladies moved about. With them awake, I could not risk entering through the chamber door. Instead, I ran down the hall and outside through the side archway so I could reach the Queen's balcony. Easily I launched myself to the balcony and gripped the ledge as I listened for signs if she were asleep or awake. Even breathing and her slow, steady heartbeat signaled that she was asleep and I crossed the space from her balcony to her resting form in an instant.

My whole body seemed to sigh with relief as my fingers brushed the skin of her cheek. The now familiar sparks hummed to life at the contact.

She was here.

She was safe.

And in that small moment where I allowed myself to enjoy the moment and the feelings of peace that washed over me - I acknowledged her as _mine_.

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 **Author's Note:** So it begins... Sorry this chapter was so short - hope you enjoyed it! :)


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